Coexistence
by Trick Steven
Summary: How Flash deals with the Central City villains is a little bit unorthodox compared to other superheroes.
1. Chapter 1

Coexistence 

By Trick Steven

Wally West, a.k.a The Flash, was sitting on his couch watching TV after a boring day at the Watchtower. There wasn't any super villain activity or any major disaster happening that day so Wally was assigned monitoring duty, which led to his eyes getting sore after hours of watching the computer screen. Normally he would've complained, but J'onn gave him a sobering look that normally meant that he wasn't up to hearing Wally's protests. Even the fastest man alive didn't want to deal with a grumpy martian, so he had to make due to chatting with Orion, who was also on monitoring duty. So to say the least, Wally was glad to be home. 

As Wally was absently flipping through the channels, he muttered to himself, "Isn't there anything good on a Monday?" 

As he clicked to the local news channel, a woman reporter was in the middle of an announcement saying, "…where Captain Cold has been causing hundreds of dollars in property damages." 

"Nope nothing good on," said Flash, who wasn't really paying attention to the news as he changed to the next channel. However when the name 'Captain Cold', registered in his brain he exclaimed, "Wait a minute!" and changed back to the news station. Captain Cold was freezing everything in his path as the news cameras rolled and was shouting explicates that were conveniently being bleeped out for the comfort of the watchers. Recognizing the street where Captain Cold was wreaking havoc, Flash immediately put on his Flash costume and said "Finally! I was starting to think I would be glued to the couch the whole day. Ready or not, Cold, here I come!" Flash then super-sped out of his apartment and into to the highway, toward downtown Central City. 

* * *

"Take that you son of a bitch!" yelled out Captain Cold as he froze a car near a cowering man. The man tried to run away, but Captain Cold managed to freeze his legs before he could. Cold strode to the fearful man and leveled his freeze-gun to the man's forehead.

"Any last requests?" asked Captain Cold. 

In a blink of an eye, a red streak ran past the two men and the man that Captain Cold had tried to kill was gone. 

Triumphantly, Flash stood a couple of feet away and said, "Yah, I got a request. Why don't you do yourself a favor and turn yourself in before I hit you from here to Metropolis?" 

"Flash, this doesn't involve you!" shouted Captain Cold, "That bastard is mine!" 

Flash took a step back, surprised at how angry Captain Cold sounded. Normally when he had faced him, he was cool and collected. Flash never heard Captain Cold sound so upset. 

"Maybe we can talk this over?" asked Flash, sounding sincere. 

"Not likely," growled Cold, who raised his freeze-gun and aimed at Flash. As soon as he pulled the trigger, Flash was on the move. He grabbed Captain Cold's freeze-gun at lighting speed and broke it in half, all in one swift move. 

Captain Cold glanced at the remains of his gun and glowered at Flash, who was standing only a few feet away. 

He charged at Flash and threw a punch, which Flash easily caught. Captain Cold threw another punch at Flash's chest, but Flash also caught it. They stared intensely at each other for a minute, until the sound of police sirens broke the tension. 

Captain Cold glanced around nervously and Flash asked him, "Ready to talk?" 

Captain Cold looked back at Flash, "Alright, you win. I'll talk to you."

* * *

A couple of minutes later, Flash was sitting in Captain Cold's dinning room as he listened to the costumed villain's complaints.

"…and Robert told me that I only had a week to pay the rent. I told him that I needed more time, but he didn't listen to me. So I kind of lost it and tried to kill him," explained Captain Cold. He had a mug of coffee in one hand and the hood of his parka was down, reveling dark brown hair with some strands of grey. 

"Well you know there are other ways of dealing with your anger. I mean, whenever I get angry I just run a couple of laps around the city," commented Flash. 

"I know, but I've been having a rough week. I got a parking ticket on Tuesday, that's going to cost me four hundred bucks. And on Wednesday, my wife moved out of the house and she wants a divorce," said Captain Cold bitterly. "I can't believe it myself. We've been married for sixteen years and she wants to divorce me!" 

Flash didn't know what to say exactly, since he's never been in that situation. However he replied with sincerity in his voice, "Well that sounds terrible. But I'm sure you'll be fine, you're a pretty hardy guy after all." 

"Heh, you would know that better then anyone else," said Captain Cold, smiling. 

Flash couldn't help but smile as well. Captain Cold wasn't exactly his friend, but he wasn't a monster either. Wally still had hope that someday, Captain Cold and the rest of his rogues will see the light and become the good guys. Some of the superheroes scoffed at Wally's hopefulness and regarded it as foolishness, but luckily Wally was the kind of person that didn't get discouraged easily. 

"Uh, this isn't going to be easy for me to say, but…thanks for listening to me. I appreciate it," said Captain Cold, looking up from his coffee mug to Flash.

"Hey, no problem," replied Flash cheerfully. 

Flash got up and extended his hand. Captain Cold got up from his chair and shook his hand. After they let go, Flash said, "Anytime you need to talk…"

"I'll just make a flash signal out of ice and you'll come running right?" asked Captain Cold and they both laughed. 

"But seriously…" 

"I'll find you, don't worry about it," waved off Captain Cold. 

"Well, see you later Len," said Flash.

"Until next time Flash," answered Captain Cold. 

Flash then opened the door and ran out. Captain Cold then remembered something and ran to his window. He slid the window opened and shouted, "Hey Flash I need to tell you something!" 

Flash then backtracked and looked up at Captain Cold. 

"This little talk of ours…don't tell anyone we had it, o.k.? I don't want the guys finding out," whispered Cold. 

"Cross my heart" promised Flash. He then added "But you know if someone _really _wanted to know…" 

Captain Cold threw a boot at Flash but he was already gone. Captain Cold sighed and went back to his table to finish his mug of coffee. 

"Sometimes I worry about the younger generation…" commented Cold to himself as he drank the rest of his coffee. 


	2. Chapter 2

Coexistence: Chapter 2

The next day, Wally got a mental call from J'onn as he was pouring an entire box of cereal into a humongous porcelain bowl.

"Hello, Wally," greeted J'onn J'onzz, coolly in Wally's mind.

Wally started and clutched his chest.

"J'onn, dude you scared me!" said Wally, sighing in relief. "Why don't you use the phone?"

"This is faster," replied J'onn simply.

"Uh, O.K.; So what are you calling me for?" asked Wally as he began to eat his cereal with a spoon shaped as the trix rabbit.

"We need you at Justice League headquarters," explained J'onn.

Wally then groaned, "Please don't let it be monitoring duty again! I swear Orion was giving me the stink eye last time…"

"Don't worry Wally," reassured the martian, "there are more important things to attend to today."

"Like…?" trailed off Wally, his mouth full of coco-puffs.

"Four members of the Legion of Doom are planning to break into Fort Knox," explained J'onn.

"Uh…how urgent is it? 'Cause I kind of promised to deliver something to a pal of mine," said Wally.

"Well considering that Wonder Woman and Batman are on the scene and that the villains are not high profile, I estimate that you won't be needed for at least another forty minutes," answered J'onn.

"Perfect! Thanks, J'onn," replied Wally happily.

"You're welcome," said J'onn and then there was silence.

Wally, assuming that J'onn had now left his mind, got up and left his bowl in the sink.

He walked to the drawer next his bed and got out a ring with his insignia, a yellow lighting bolt surrounded by a white circle. Wally pressed a button on the side of the ring, and with a _Pop,_ his costume came shooting out. Within a blink of an eye, Wally changed into his familiar scarlet costume. He tucked the ring back in the cabinet and then ran out his apartment door, then backtracked as he forgot to lock the door behind him. After that, Wally zoomed across the highways of Central City and then stopped at a local bistro called, "Sammy's Sandwich Shop". The door bells chimed as he walked inside the busy shop. People looked up and some waved, while others greeted him with an enthusiastic, "Hey, Flash!"

As Flash waved and greeted the people in the shop, a girl about ten years old stepped in front of him and asked shyly, "Um, hello, Mr. Flash. C-could you please sign this poster? My brother thinks you're cool and I do, too."

She held up a small poster with The Flash posing victoriously in a background of lighting bolts.

"Sure!" smiled Flash as he picked up the poster and quickly grabbed a pen from the pastry counter. "What's your name?"

"Margret," replied the girl.

"And your brother's?" asked Flash.

"Mark," answered Margret.

Flash wrote on the poster and added his signature with flourish. He handed it back to Margret and said, smiling genuinely, "Here you go."

"Thank you!" gushed Margret, now cradling the poster with care.

"You're welcome, kiddo," replied Flash, ruffling the girl's hair before walking up to the shop's counter.

"Hello, Sammy," greeted Flash, waving to the portly man in an apron, who was putting a fresh tray of quiche in the display counter.

"Flash! Welcome back!" welcomed Sammy, whole-heartedly. "What can I do for you today?"

"I need a bowl of chicken soup. A pal of mine is sick and I know that you have the best soup in the whole city," explained Flash.

"Why thank you Flash! I'll get that soup ready right away," answered Sammy as he went back into the kitchen to tell the cook the order.

A few minutes later, Sammy came back to the counter with a Styrofoam bowl full of steaming soup. He handed it to Flash at the counter and said, "Here you go Flash, one bowl of chicken soup."

"Thanks, Sammy," said Flash. He then reached into his boots and brought up a few dollars. He was about to hand the money to Sammy, but Sammy refused, saying, "No, no Flash, you don't have to pay me anything. After you saved my shop from a giant boomerang, I think I at least owe you this."

"You sure?" asked Flash and Sammy nodded. He then picked up the bowl of soup from the counter and Sammy added, "I hope your friend gets better."

"Thanks. Well, I'll be going now. See ya later!" replied Flash and then, like a bolt of lighting, he was off.

A few moments later, Flash arrived at a townhouse complex near the railroad tracks. He was able to jump the fencing that surrounded the complex and ran through the winding streets of the cul-de-sac until he reached a townhouse with the number 450 in bright neon colors. Wally knocked on the door once, twice, but there was no answer. Wally then decided to try his luck and jiggled the doorknob. The door quietly swung open and he peered inside.

"James, are you home?" asked Flash.

"Yes," wheezed out a sickly sounding voice, followed by a hacking cough.

"Mind if I come in?"

"Sure, sure. Be careful for the booby traps though. They're really _tricky_!" The Trickster then laughed weakly at his own pun.

Flash then proceeded to walk through the Trickster's house. He carefully avoided the stuffed animals, sport equipment, and various knickknacks that littered the hardwood floor. Flash tripped on a catapult on his way, but he was able to dodge the sharp tacks that flew at him. When he reached the Trickster's room, Flash greeted, "Hey James. Heard you were sick, so I brought some soup."

"Thanks," answered Trickster, who was lying on his bed, propped up by a dozen or so pillows. He was dressed in yellow and blue striped pajamas with a nightcap to match. On his nightstand was a stack of tissue boxes and below it was a wastebasket filled to the brim in used tissues.

"You know," added Trickster when Flash placed his soup on the nightstand, "The reason why I'm not doing any fiendish, dastardly things right now is because I'm sick. If I wasn't, Central City would be covered with explosive confetti by now."

"Uh, James, have you been taking your medication?" asked Flash in response, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe…" answered Trickster, shifting his eyes nervously, but he quickly changed the subject. "Flash, if you don't mind, can you sit down for a sec? I got something to show you."

"Sure, just as long as it's not going to take too long. I gotta go in ten minutes," replied Flash.

"It won't, I promise. Just take a seat while I get my stuff," said Trickster as he got up and looked under his bed.

Flash spotted a chair nearby and sat on it. A loud _Phff _sounded and Flash got up, alarmed. Trickster then started laughing his head off, saying between laughs and coughs, "I can't believe you fell for it! You're such a sucker sometimes Flash!"

Flash looked under the chair cushion and surprise, surprise, found a whoopee-cushion underneath. Flash then laughed too, to the surprise of Trickster, who was expecting an annoyed look from the speedster.

"Not bad James," said Flash, grinning to Trickster as he threw the deflated whoopee cushion to him. "I did this once to Batman though and let me tell you, it wasn't pretty."

"I'll keep that in mind," answered Trickster. He then turned his attention to his polka-dotted duffel bag that he retrieved from underneath his bed.

As he was searching through the bag, he muttered, "Where are you, you little…ah, here!"

Trickster then exclaimed, "Ta daaaa!" as he pulled out a puppet version of Flash and himself. He handed them to Flash as he explained, "I know they don't seem like much but you know, I can't be a villain forever. So I thought to myself, 'Hey James, you're an inventor! Why not make money off of your genius?' So when I retire from the supervillain biz, I wanna make a toy company!"

"That's a great idea!" said Flash, looking up from the yellow button eyes of his puppet likeness. His smile then turned into a concerned frown as he remembered the various "toys" that Trickster had made in the past to fight him. "Uh, I hope they're not going to be spiting out bullets," added Flash.

"Oh come on Flash! All my toys would be non-lethal of course! Do I look like Toyman to you?" asked Trickster. He then added hastily, "That's a hypothetical question, don't answer it."

"Well I'm sure you'll do great. By the way, nice job on the puppets, the Flash one looks like a stud," said Flash smiling as he handed back the puppets to Trickster.

"If you want my opinion, I think the Trickster one is better looking. There's nothing sexier then yellow and blue striped pants," replied Trickster smirking.

"Ah-uh, in your dreams maybe," answered Flash, unconvinced.

Trickster then responded, "Deny it all you want, Flash, but I know you secretly want a pair."

"And dye my hair pink and wear a shirt with poka-dots? No thanks," said Flash. Trickster blew a raspberry at him and threw a pillow at his head in retaliation. Flash jumped up and caught it midair. He then ran to Trickster and began to pummel him mercilessly with the pillow. It looked like it hurt but Trickster was made of hardier material; all he did was giggle.

Trickster tried to attack Flash, but it was hard to win a pillow fight when your opponent ran at super speed and you weren't feeling so well. Soon Trickster shouted, "O.K, O.K Flash you win, I give up!"

Flash stopped and leaned against the wall. "Hey that's what you get for hitting me with a pillow."

"Yet again, Flash saves the day from the diabolical Trickster!" announced Trickster. He then muttered to himself, "Hey that sounds good. I should write that down."

"Uh, James, what time is it? I can't read your clock," interrupted Flash, looking up at the odd clock that Trickster had mounted on his wall. Instead of numbers, it had pictures of fruits in various hats and the hands of the clock went counter clock wise.

"Technically that clock isn't mine. Well, I guess now it's mine, but the Mad Hatter gave it to me," replied Trickster. His eyebrows furrowed in thought as he continued, "and I don't even know the guy..."

"James?" asked Flash impatiently.

"Oh! Yah, it's twelve o' clock," stated Trickster as he glanced at the clock.

Flash eyes widened as he exclaimed, "I'm late! The league's going to kill me!"

"Really? Well don't forget to invite me to your funeral then," commented Trickster. A pillow was immediately thrown at his face for that remark.

"Well, see ya around, James," said Flash hastily and then added before he zoomed out of the house, "Take your meds!"

"I will!" shouted Trickster as he watched the scarlet speedster run off.

As soon as Flash was gone, Trickster walked to his bathroom cabinet, grabbed his prescription pills and dumped them in the toilet, smiling in triumph as he flushed them down.

"Sorry Flash, but you know I hate medication. Takes away my creativity, that's what it does," muttered Trickster to himself as he walked back to his room and sat on his bed. He looked up on a shelf on the side of his bed that had a row of puppets he had made of his fellow rogues, along with the Flash puppet. The puppet Flash seemed to be looking down at him and Trickster replied, "What? I'm not doing anything wrong." There was a period of silence as the puppet Flash and Trickster stared at each other. Then Trickster broke the silence by responding, "Well, screw you! I don't need anybody telling me what to do, especially you!" Trickster then reached up at the shelf and turned the Flash doll face down. He then got out a voice-recorder and pressed the record button.

"Note to self; make sure to make puppets without a conscious. Another note to self; don't use whoopee-cushions when fighting Batman…"


	3. Chapter 3

Coexistence: Chapter 3

Sam Scudder, the man behind the helmet of his criminal persona, Mirror Master, was enjoying his usual decaf soy latté at a local coffee shop located between 4th Street and Lighting Avenue. Sam was dressed in plain blue jeans, a baseball jersey, and a dark brown overcoat and was basking in the warm orange glow of the setting sun. Normally he would've waited until later to get his dose of caffeine, but the coffee helped sooth the dull throbbing of his current headache. Holding his steaming cup of joe in one hand, Sam leaned back and gazed outside of the coffee shop. What met his eyes were images of tall high rise buildings, skeletons of skyscrapers encircled by yellow construction equipment, men in hard hats toiling for their pay. Steam drifted pass lazily as the factories pumped out iron and steel. To some, Central City would be the absolute worst place to live. Sam however liked the smoke and the smell of newly-made asphalt. He also liked the hard-working blue collared workers that dominated the population. Sam had never met a person in Central City who wasn't fully committed to their job. His fellow rogues were one example. Flash was another.

Sam's eyebrows then furrowed at the thought of his enemy and he reminded himself that he needed to get together with Len and the others to plan a heist. It had been a long time since they've planed a robbery together and hopefully, they would actually score big without The Flash getting in the way.

_Like that's ever going to happen__, _thought Mirror Master to himself after releasing a pessimistic sigh. _But hey you never know, _he added encouragingly, _Maybe this time we'll get away and I'll buy myself a little island house with a pool side bar and I'll get to drink those drinks with a little umbrella inside…_

Sam fantasizing was interrupted when a waitress asked him, "Are you done sir?"

Sam snapped back to reality and he replied, "Uh, yah, thanks."

The waitress took his half empty mug and promptly came back, bringing the bill.

As Sam was paying for his coffee, he couldn't help but wonder why nobody recognized him. He then shrugged; it didn't matter who recognized him, just as long as it wasn't the police. He had two warrants for his arrest and he didn't want to bump into them anytime soon.

After he paid for his coffee, Sam got up and left the café. He tried to avoid the busy sidewalks and instead took a detour, cutting across the construction lots. It wasn't until he was in the ally behind The Flash Museum that he noticed a group of men were silently trailing behind him. Instead of running off, he turned around to face them.

"What the hell do you guys want?" asked Sam irritably, giving them the best death-glare he could muster.

"All we want is your money, so if you don't wanna get hurt, fork it over," replied one of the men in the group, stepping forward.

"No thanks fellas. I'm already strapped of cash anyways. Quit wasting your time and go rob a bank," answered Sam, who then turned around and kept on walking.

The young man that had spoken signaled his group to attack as soon as Sam's back was turned. Three of them pulled out knives from their belts, and two held up their crowbars. One thug charged at Sam with an aluminum baseball bat, grinning widely.

That move was a mistake. Sam quickly turned around and slugged the would-be smasher in the gut. The bat fell on the asphalt with a loud _clang _and the thug fell hard on the floor soon after. The rest of the gang then rushed at him, the air filling with threats and profanities. Sam stood his ground and threw punch after punch. However he knew he wouldn't be able to last long without his mirror weapons, so he ran around a corner to escape the gang. Sam hid behind a dumpster and searched franticly for his mirror pistol and the handheld mirror that he usually kept in his pockets. Then it hit him; _Damn! I left them at home. The only time that I really need them and they're not with me. _

Sensing that time was running out, Sam looked around for a reflective surface that he could use to escape. He spotted a store front window and sprinted towards it.

"There he is! Get 'im!" yelled out one of the muggers.

Sam was getting close to the window, ten feet away, then five. But before he could reach the window, a knife flew at him and pierced his leg. He fell and was soon over taken by the gang.

"Nice throwing there, Axel," said one of the men casually, watching the beating with indifference as if he was used to watching people get beaten to a bloody pulp on a daily basis.

"Thanks," replied a teen with blond hair as he was bobbing his head to the music coming from his MP3 player. He spat out some bubblegum on the sidewalk as he asked, "Aren't cha worried about The Flash coming here, though?"

"Na," replied the man, waving off Axel's question. "First of all, we ain't parading in capes. Secondly," he then glanced at Sam's broken and bloody face, "He's nobody special. I would've recognized him if he was someone important."

* * *

Wally West was bone tired after thwarting a robbery of Fort Knox from the Legion of Doom _and _from working the afternoon shift at his job at the forensics laboratory. Since he was out of costume, he opt to walk the way back to his apartment, which in a way he appreciated because he never really took the time in the day to window shop. As he was gazing longingly at a particular gaming system that knew he couldn't possibly afford, he heard a faint yell.

_Maybe it's just a guy who had a little too much to drink,_ thought Wally, hopefully, not wanting to fight crime feeling fatigued as he already was.

Another yell was heard and Wally sighed. He looked around to see if anyone was looking at him. When the coast was clear, he then super sped toward the source of the yelling. He stopped when he heard the shouting get louder. Wally frowned when he was in front of The Flash Museum. Someone had vandalized the statue of himself writing, "FLASH SUXS" in bold, pink and blue spray paint. A mustache was also added to the Flash statue's face, along with the message scrawled along the base, "Art by Axel W."

"Oh come on!" exclaimed Wally in disbelief, throwing his arms in the air in exasperation.

He then shook off his anger, remembering why he came there in the first place. Wally focused on where he heard the shouting and crept to an ally nearby. Even from far away, Wally could see the mass of muggers fighting with a lone man. The victim was lying on the ground, while the others kicked him and grabbed his coat. Wasting no time, Wally charged in, going so fast that the thugs had no time to react before they were all knocked unconscious. Wally knew that the criminals didn't see him coming, so he knew for a fact that they hadn't had the time to see his mask-less face. He glanced at one of the knocked out muggers and the dog-tag that hung around his neck, reading the name, "Axel Walker".

"Ha! Serves you right punk," exclaimed Flash cheerfully.

He then turned to the man on the ground, kneeling down as he turned the man face up. Wally's eyes went wide as he recognized one of the rogues from his gallery: Mirror Master. But instead of wearing his usual orange and green costume, he was decorated with bloody slash marks and deep purple bruises. His eyes were closed and he took shallow, shaky breaths. Wally considered running back to his apartment and getting his mask but as he looked at his enemy's shattered body, he knew that every second counted. He gingerly picked up Mirror Master and rushed to the Central City General Hospital, all the while hoping that Mirror Master wouldn't wake up and recognize him.

* * *

Sam woke up to the sound of a heart monitor's rhythmic beeping. He groggily glanced around the room, wondering why he was in a hospital room in the first place. Then the memories of what had happened the night before flooded his mind and he grimaced.

_If the guys find out I was beat up by a bunch of snot-nosed punks, I'll be the laughing stock of the entire rogue gallery! _groaned Sam inwardly.

Sam was curious however to who exactly helped him out. So when a nurse came in to change his IV bag, Sam asked her, "What happened?"

The nurse looked at him and replied, "Let me get Dr. Jones to answer your question."

She then left and soon a skinny man wearing a white lab coat too big for his lanky frame came in.

"So how are you feeling?" asked Dr. Jones, sitting on a stool beside Sam's bed.

"Hmm, so-so," replied Sam. "I've felt worse."

"Good. Considering that you came in with a collapsed lung and a broken femur, you've healed quite remarkably these past three weeks," answered the doctor.

"Wait a minute," paused Sam as the doctor retrieved a pressure cuff from the wall, "I was here for three weeks?"

"Yes you were. We put you on morphine for most of time, so that could be a reason why you can't really remember anything," replied the doctor a matter-of-factly as he read Sam's blood pressure. He then chuckled as he added "And let me tell you, you were babbling the craziest things!"

"That's wonderful doc," said Sam sarcastically, "But who exactly brought me in here?"

"The Flash did," replied Dr. Jones, much to Sam's surprise.

"Really? But…why?" asked Sam.

"Do I look like Flash to you?" questioned the doctor. "Of course if I came in with a plastic bag over my head like he did when he came here, maybe I would. It seems like superheroes will go to any lengths to hide their secret identities."

The doctor got up, adjusted his coat and said, "Well it seems that your doing just swell. In a week or two you'll be able to transfer to the state's penitentiary. In the meantime, don't try to escape this room. Two armed guards are outside and I wouldn't want for you to come back riddled with bullet holes. If you need anything, just push the red button."

And with that happy little warning, the doctor walked out.

_That was the worst doctor I have ever met, _thought Sam to himself crossly. As minutes slipped by, Sam had nothing to do but stare at the blank, sterile walls of his room. The thought of what Flash did though kept on bugging him. Sam was still trying to get over the fact that The Flash, his sworn enemy, saved him. If roles were reversed, he would've just left Flash to rot in the gutter. Sam didn't even understand why Flash would save _him_. Wasn't he just a thorn in Flash's side; wouldn't it be better if he was dead? It would be one less costumed villain that Flash had to fight with.

Thinking about morals made Sam's head hurt and his heart heavy, so he turned his attention to how he would escape his prison of a room. There weren't any TVs, mirrors, windows, towel dispensers, or anything remotely metallic or reflective in the room. Even the IV pole was made of plastic. Sam's hopes of escaping were dashed, at least for the moment. He laid down in his bed, hoping that a nurse would be careless enough to leave a mirror lying around.

Sam then noticed a blue envelope hidden behind a chair cushion. He reached for it and grabbed it quickly. He opened the blank envelope out of curiosity and smiled at the image of an ice cream cone on the card and the banner that read "Get well soon!" He opened the card and was surprised at all the writing it had inside. He immediately recognized his fellow rogues' handwriting and read what was written:

'_Hey Sam, it's me Len. James, Digger, and me are hoping you have a speedy recovery. If it makes you feel any better, we caught those bastards that landed you in the hospital. Gave them the beating of their lifetimes. Told 'em not to mess with us ever again.' _

Below the blue font, was large, scrawling handwriting. It was written in yellow marker that smelled, to Sam, like lemons. Sam had to squint to read what his friend wrote:

'_Hi Sam! How's the hospital food, terrible or just throw-up awful? Sorry about the ice cream card, I wanted to get ya a smiley face one but you know Len, he takes his cold fetish a little too seriously sometimes. Any who, when you get better we can get a couple of drinks…on me of course!' _

Sam chuckled at the last sentence. Whenever James said he would pay for drinks, he always seemed to weasel himself out from actually paying up. Sam's eyes then fell to what Digger wrote:

'_Hello mate. I expect your feeling better, 'cause I know you've been through worse. I hope you appreciate this card, 'cause I spent my last two quarters on it.' _

Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes at Digger's usual stingy attitude toward spending money. The card was ended by: _'Your pals, Len, James, and Digger. P.S check the back!' _

Sam turned the card over and to his delight, found a mirror taped to the back.

"Thanks guys. Now I can finally get out of this stink hole," said Sam to himself, grinning. He pulled off the tape that connected him to the IV and pulled out the tubes. He got up, stretched, and then disappeared into the mirror.


	4. Chapter 4

Coexistence: Chapter 4

A couple of weeks later, Captain Cold, Trickster, Mirror Master, and Captain Boomerang were sitting at their usual booth in the crowded pub where most of Flash's rogues gathered. Trickster was playing around with the straws and was attempting to build a tower with the bendable sticks, but to no avail. Meanwhile, Captain Cold and Mirror Master were listening to Captain Boomerang brag about his latest conquest.

"…and a whole fleet of cops were there, right? So I just threw a couple of boomerangs at 'em and all of their cars exploded!" boasted Boomerang, leaning back with an arrogant smirk on his face.

"That's nothing Digger. I once froze the entire city in a block of ice for two weeks," retorted Captain Cold before taking a sip from his glass of milk.

Mirror Master was about to reply with a deed of his own, but before he could, Trickster interrupted by shouting, "Pick me! I got something evil and dastardly to share!"

"Alright James, so what's the best you've done?" asked Cold.

"O.K, so I once threatened the mayor's life by using teddy bears," explained Trickster.

"Teddy bears?" said Mirror Master, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"The acid-spewing kind," replied Trickster huffily after seeing the look that Captain Cold and Captain Boomerang exchanged with one another. Cold just shook his head sadly while Boomerang snickered.

"Anyways, so how are you Sam? After what those punks did to you, I'm surprise you can walk without any crutches," commented Captain Cold to Mirror Master.

"Well you know us rogues heal hellavah fast. We have to so we can keep up with Flash," replied Mirror Master, shrugging.

All the rogues nodded in agreement with that statement. Trickster saw Mirror Master fiddling with something underneath the table and asked him, "What cha got there Mr. Reflective?"

"Huh? I don't have anything!" answered Mirror Master hastily.

"It don't look like nothing," grinned Trickster mischievously. Before Mirror Master could react, Trickster grabbed the object from his hands.

"Ah it's a letter!" exclaimed Trickster as he observed the scarlet envelope in his hands. "Is it from a secret admirer?"

"No! Give that back James!" growled Mirror Master as he tried to grab the letter from Trickster's nimble hands. Trickster wormed his way out of Mirror Master's grasp as he opened the letter, laughing.

The Captains were watching the scene with amusement; however Captain Cold was ready to step in if anything got out of hand.

"Let's see who this is from…" trailed off Trickster as he ripped the envelope and grabbed the letter.

He read the card quickly, his eyes getting bigger the more he read.

"Sam got a 'Get well' card from…The Flash," stated Trickster in shock, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining The Flash symbol at the bottom of the card.

"What?! Give me that!" shouted Captain Cold. Trickster handed the letter to him and Cold read it, while Captain Boomerang read behind his shoulder.

After he finished reading, Captain Cold put his hand to his forehead and sighed in exasperation.

"Len, I didn't ask for the card! Flash delivered it to my house, I had no choice!" claimed Mirror Master.

Captain Cold raised his hand to stop Mirror Master.

"I understand. Flash likes helping people, even us rogues, although I have no idea why. It's best we just ignore what he did and move on," explained Captain Cold.

"Hey, we still hate The Flash no matter what he does, right?" said Captain Boomerang encouragingly.

"Ya," muttered Mirror Master, looking down at his cup of coffee.

" 'course I do," replied Trickster unconvincingly as he fiddled with the straw wrappers.

Captain Cold just sat there in silence. Captain Boomerang looked around the table and then threw his arms in the air, saying "What the 'ell? I don't get you blokes sometimes."

Captain Boomerang got up and muttered, "I need to get myself a drink." Before he could move, however, a red blur ran into the pub, scattering dust everywhere. When the dust cleared, the Scarlet Speedster himself, The Flash, stood in front of the rogue's booth.

"Uh-oh. We're in trouble," said Trickster, looking up at Flash.

Captain Cold quickly whipped out his freeze-gun as Mirror Master and Captain Boomerang took out their own weapons.

"This ends now Flash!" shouted Captain Cold, his finger pulling the trigger. He then realized that his freeze-gun wasn't there and then said in surprise, "What..?"

Captain Cold was then punched in the gut and toppled to the floor. He swiftly got up and gritted his teeth in anger when he saw Flash had his gun, along with the other's weapons in his hands.

"Looking for these?" asked Flash, grinning.

"Flash, get lost!" yelled out the now powerless Mirror Master.

Flash shrugged remorsefully after he said, "Sorry guys, but I can't. The rogues are all wanted by the police. I'll have to send you guys back to Iron Heights."

The rogues looked down at the floor in defeat and Flash added, "But, instead, I'll give you guys a ten minute head start."

The rogues looked up in surprise and Trickster said, "You're letting us go…?"

"But you guys have to be quick. There's a reason why they call me the fastest man alive," smiled Flash.

Wasting no time, the rogues all shot out of the pub. Flash then went to the bar and sat on the barstool, waiting until the ten minutes were up. The bartender, an older man in his late forties, was cleaning glasses with a rag. He adjusted his specs and walked to where Wally was sitting.

"Want something to drink?" asked the bartender.

"No, thanks," replied Wally.

The bartender nodded and went back to his work. There was a long period of silence before the bartender inquired, "Why do you do it?"

"Huh? Do what?" asked Wally.

"Being kind to the rogues. They've hurt you and this city," said the bartender.

"Well I'm just a guy who believes in second chances, that's all," shrugged Wally good-naturedly. "I have a feeling that someday, if I try hard enough, they'll see that being good isn't so bad after all."

Wally then looked up at the clock and said, "Oops, gotta go. See ya!"

And with that, Wally West was gone in a blur of red and dust.

The bartender watched the dust settle as he cleaned the same glass. He didn't know what to make of The Flash; only that in his lifetime he had never met anyone as optimistic as the scarlet speedster and that alone made him hopeful.

* * *

_Author's Note: I want to thank everyone that took the time to submit a review for my story. As a side note, if you're interested in reading comic books about Wally West and his rogues, I highly recommend "The Flash" series by Geoff Johns. I just finished reading it and its wonderful how he writes Flash and his rogue gallery. _


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